


Emma

by bananacosmicgirl



Category: NCIS
Genre: Drama, Family, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Romance, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 15:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananacosmicgirl/pseuds/bananacosmicgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a dead Lieutenant and his wife are found murdered, Gibbs assigns the care of their five month old daughter to Tony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to write a Tony-has-to-take-care-of-a-baby fic. This is the result. Don’t know if this isn’t could really happen, but it worked for the fic. Comments are more than welcome.

  


**Chapter one**

“Well, she’s perfectly healthy. She might have been a bit frightened, but not injured. She does need to be looked after, of course.”

With that, Ducky headed out, to go down and get his equipment to care for the bodies.

The small child, perhaps six months old – Tony had no idea really, because he hadn’t seen all that many babies in his life – stared up at him with big blue eyes, and appeared to be listening intently. It held onto one of his fingers.

Gibbs looked at the baby in the crib. “She can’t go with Child Services. We don’t know what the murderer’s objective is – she needs protection until we’ve solved the case.”

“No living relatives anywhere near,” Tony said. “Grandparents on both sides are dead. Mrs. Brown’s sister lives in Australia with her husband.”

“There’s a neighbor downstairs who’s willing to take her,” McGee said.

“What part of _protection_ did you not get?” Gibbs asked. “She’s staying with us. DiNozzo, she’s yours. She seems to have latched on already.”

“What?” Tony asked. “Me? No way. I mean—give it to Jenny or something. I can’t take it. I don’t know anything about babies.”

He heard McGee chuckle and gave him a murderous look, which shut him up quickly.

“Her, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. “Not ‘it’.”

Tony looked down at the baby again. He really couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl, except she did have girlish clothes on. They weren’t pink – thank god – but beige. What probably gave them away was the hearts sprinkled very freely all over – and the swirly text, although Tony assumed that ‘Mommy’s sweetheart’ could have been on a boy’s outfit too.

The baby blew raspberries at him and giggled at the feeling of the bubbles against her skin.

“But boss, I don’t know anything about this stuff—babies really aren’t my thing,” Tony tried again, helplessly.

“You’ll learn,” Gibbs said. 

Tony knew it wasn’t up for discussion and his shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. Gibbs returned downstairs to the other crime scene – the parents of the baby, a Navy Lieutenant and his wife, had been gunned down during what seemed like routine morning activities. The husband had been killed in the kitchen. Ducky had estimated the time of death to two hours earlier, which would have been very early morning. The neighbor – the one who had offered to take the kid – had called it in after knocking on the door to see if Mrs. Brown needed any help during the day. Through the kitchen window, she’d seen Mr. Brown lying in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor.

The baby started making noise, apparently unhappy with the lack of attention. Tony winced as it – she – started wailing, and sighed. He had never actually held a baby before, a fact that perhaps ought to be pointed out to Gibbs. Gibbs had had a kid – why couldn’t he—but he knew where that train of thought ended, and he knew that if Tony had said anything about it, he’d likely have ended up with his head on a platter. Gibbs’ daughter was not a topic ever breeched. 

With hesitating fingers, Tony touched the baby. She kicked and flailed with her arms, and her wails increased in volume.

“DiNozzo, pick her up.” 

Gibbs was suddenly back, standing in the doorway to the baby’s room. 

“Boss, I’ve never done this before,” Tony said, wincing. He hated when he couldn’t live up to Gibbs’ expectations – and it seemed to happen a bit too often.

Gibbs rolled his eyes and came into the room. Without fuss, he picked her up from the crib. 

Tony thought it looked annoyingly normal to see a baby in Gibbs’ arms. One hand rested on her back and he whispered to it. Her. Whatever. Once she had begun to quiet, he held her out for Tony to take.

“She won’t bite,” he said, with a smile that was both amused and impatient. 

“I know, boss, I just don’t—uh, want to hurt her,” Tony said. 

He still held out his hands, albeit hesitantly, and took the odd lump of a baby in his arms. She immediately began wailing again, eyes squeezed together and feet kicking into empty air. 

Tony held her awkwardly, feeling clumsy, especially when Gibbs watched him with an amused smile. 

“There you go,” Gibbs said. 

He left again and Tony stood there, baby girl against his chest and a chaotic wreck of a room before him. The second murder, of the baby’s mother, had happened just outside the baby’s room. One bullet had gone wild and had passed straight through the wooden side of the baby’s crib, leaving splinters everywhere. The woman, a beautiful woman with blonde hair spread out like a halo around her head, stained with the pool of blood she was laying in, had fallen just short of the doorway to the baby’s room. She looked frightened, even in death, and Tony had to wonder how much she had feared for her daughter’s life.

The baby’s wails turned into hiccups as he held her, rubbing her back in a motion copied off Gibbs. It seemed to calm her. 

On the door, four colorful letters had been glued – E, M, M, A.

“Emma,” Tony said. “It’s better than ‘it’, definitely. Gibbs probably wouldn’t appreciate if I continued to call you ‘it’. Although there is an It in ‘The Addams Family’. But it’s just a mop of hair, really. Not the best role model.” 

The baby sighed softly; he felt her warm breath against his throat. 

He walked downstairs. They would be processing the baby’s room in a minute – Ducky and Palmer were due to come up to collect the body at any moment.

The body of the dead Lieutenant lay at a slightly awkward angle on the kitchen floor. Ziva had poured out a can of coffee upon their arrival, and had concluded that they must have been making breakfast when the killer surprised them. 

“Ah,” Ziva said. “The baby daddy.”

“Yeah, or not,” Tony said, already annoyed with the teasing he would have to endure. “I’m just watching her until we know she’s safe.”

“It is a her, then?” Ziva asked.

She was obviously uninterested in the baby, sparing her little more than a glance. Tony knew that placing the baby in Ziva’s care would have been far worse, even though he knew nothing of babies. She’d probably kill it when it started screaming.

“Yes, it’s a her,” Tony said.

“Good. She’s perhaps a little young for you,” Ziva remarked, “but give it a few years.”

“Ha, ha,” Tony said, without smiling.

The baby whimpered against his shoulder, and he sighed, assuming it wouldn’t be long until it started crying again. 

“Ugh,” Ziva said. “It smells.”

Tony realized it as Ziva said it – the baby had obviously done something nasty in her diaper. 

He brought the baby back upstairs. There was a changing table in her room, and there had to be diapers. He was unsure of whether or not he’d succeed in putting one of those things on her, but with the awful smell she was giving off, he couldn’t really wait to find someone who could do it better. Asking Gibbs was out of the question – he’d tell Tony to ‘figure it out’.

Pulling the diaper off the baby wasn’t hard – there were bits of tape on the sides to pull at, and the whole thing came off. The content of it was gross. He felt the bile rise in his throat, and wondered how he could look and smell dead people without a problem, but a baby’s full diaper was making him sick. 

He looked at the baby, whose bottom was still disgusting after the diaper had been removed and thrown away. Looking around, he found wipes, and he grabbed a handful. Still holding his breath, he wiped at the baby, who screamed and wiggled to get away. He tried holding one leg, and then the other, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, he grabbed both legs and held on rather tightly, and managed to get all the _stuff_. 

“How can you do that much when you’re so little?” Tony asked the baby, who only screamed in response. Her little face was red and scrunched up and she thrashed her arms about.

He found a new diaper in the cabinet above the changing table, and he pulled out a fresh one. Looking at it with doubtful eyes, he tried to place it correctly under the baby. However, with little knowledge of what the correct way was, and with a baby who simply did not want to cooperate, the diaper ended up on the floor.

“Now you’re just being annoying,” Tony said.

He pulled out a new diaper, and placed it under her. This time, he managed to tape it together – but when he stood her up, the diaper fell down.

“Okay, so a little tighter,” Tony growled with frustration. His head hurt – the baby’s screams cut through his brain like a knife, grinding this way and that. “Third time’s the charm.”

It was a bit loop-sided, and the baby’s mom would probably have sniffed and done it over again, but the mother was dead and he’d have to be happy with it. It stayed up, and the baby finally stopped crying so much.

He managed to get the onesie back on, switching between not wanting to hurt her and wanting to just force her small hands into the piece of clothing. By the time he was finished, he had invented a few new cuss words.

“Uh, Tony?” 

McGee stood in the doorway.

“Yes,” Tony growled, picking up the hiccupping baby with awkward moves.

“Gibbs is wondering what’s taking you so long,” McGee said.

“I’m changing the kid,” Tony said, tone low and threatening, daring McGee to comment.

“Well—he wants you downstairs, so you should probably hurry up,” McGee said.

Tony glared daggers at McGee, and wondered why McGee wasn’t the one to look after the kid. 

McGee disappeared down the stairs – Tony heard the thump-thump-thump as he went down – and Tony was left in relative silence. Emma had relaxed against his shoulder again, sniffling continuously, but at least not wailing anymore.

After a steadying breath, Tony followed McGee down the stairs. At the base of the stairs, he met Palmer and Ducky, with a gurney.

“Ah, I thought I heard her,” Ducky said, smiling at the baby.

“ _Thought_ you heard her?” Tony said. “She was screaming loud enough to wake the neighborhood.”

Ducky chuckled. “Yes, yes, well, that’s the way it is with little babies. Poor little dear; this is most awful.”

He cupped the baby’s cheek in his hand. She didn’t react, apparently exhausted from her screaming fest. 

“She is a beautiful child, for sure,” Ducky said. 

Tony wondered how he could tell – in his opinion, all kids her age looked about the same.

“Well, we’re going up and you’re going down,” Ducky said. “Come on, Mr. Palmer, let’s go.”

Palmer nodded, looking rather nervously at the baby. Tony didn’t feel like listening to any inanities by him, so he headed towards the kitchen, where Gibbs would be waiting.

“DiNozzo, where’ve you been?” Gibbs asked.

“I—uh, she needed changing,” Tony said. 

One of Gibbs’ eyebrows rose slightly but he didn’t comment.

“I want you to go upstairs and grab whatever you think you’ll need to care for her,” Gibbs said. “It might be a few days before she can be handed to Child Services.”

“Uh, isn’t there anything I can help with down here?” Tony asked.

“Whilst holding her?”

Tony sighed. “I see your point. I’m going back upstairs.”

Tony didn’t think it wise to tell Gibbs that he had no idea what a kid would need to stay with him for a few days. However, he trudged back up the stairs, realizing that Emma had fallen asleep against his shoulder. She was warm, like a tiny human heater.

He found a large bag stuffed in a corner, which already seemed to be filled to the brim with stuff necessary for the baby. There were diapers, wipes, some sort of powder, lotion, a sun hat, a change of clothes, a bottle, and much more. Tony looked at the clothes and grabbed a few more pieces out of the drawer. She’d need more than one change of clothes if she was to stay for more than a day. Babies probably switched clothes more often than adults – they were bound to spill food and stuff all over the place. If they ate food. Did babies eat food?

Finally happy with his selection of things – he’d thrown in a few more diapers for good measure – he hoisted the bag up onto his shoulder. 

“You know, you don’t weigh much, but the stuff you need – good God,” Tony muttered to the baby. “I don’t need this much stuff going away on a two week vacation.”

Not that he could remember the last time he’d been on a two week vacation, but that was beside the point.

When he came downstairs again, he found a baby carrier in navy blue, placed by the doorway. He assumed the baby’s father had had a hand in buying the baby carrier, as everything in the baby’s room was pink and frilly, unlike the carrier.

“I’m assuming you’re not going to buy her a crib,” Gibbs said. “She can sleep in that.”

“Uh, thanks, boss,” Tony said. 

“Go back to NCIS,” Gibbs said. “There’ll be some paperwork for her, and you can keep her with you while you check out Lieutenant Brown’s background, and his wife’s.”

Tony nodded, rather unhappily. He liked working crime scenes – paperwork was the downside to this job. 

“Something bothering you, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked.

Tony hesitated. “Why me, boss? I mean, I’m sure the Director – or McGee for that matter – would be better than me with a kid.”

“Because I gave you the job,” Gibbs said.

Tony pursed his mouth and nodded. 

“There’s a car seat in Brown’s car,” Gibbs said. “Use it. And don’t let her out of your sight.”

He left. Tony sighed deeply, wondering if Gibbs was out to punish him for some reason. He couldn’t think of anything bad he’d done lately, but then he usually seemed to have done something, at least if the head slaps were anything to go by.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

 

He rode back to NCIS in his own car – they had been called straight to the scene this time, since it was the weekend and they were on call. He’d been at home, just back from his morning run, when his phone had gone off.

Emma slept on, which Tony could only be thankful for.

He received strange looks as he passed through the NCIS garage, the elevator, and finally the squad room, pushing a baby carrier. No one dared comment, as Tony glared at them before they had time to open their mouths. He didn’t have Gibbs’ icy, killing glare, but it did the trick with most people.

Except Abby, of course, who came bounding into the squad room with her usual energy and then some.

“Tony!” she said. “So it’s true – I mean, of course it’s true, Gibbs wouldn’t lie, but still – this is so unreal. I never thought I’d see you with a baby. It’s just not— _you_ , you know.”

“Trust me, I know,” Tony said.

She craned her neck to look into the carrier. “Oh, she’s so cute – and really small. What is she, five months?”

“I don’t know, but I’m supposed to find out,” Tony said. “I’m here on desk duty and babysitting.”

“Oh, it’ll be fun,” Abby said. “Do you mind if I play with her for a little? I haven’t got anything from the crime scene yet to work with.”

Tony shrugged. “She’s probably safe at NCIS, so go ahead.”

Abby squealed and grabbed the handles of the baby carrier. Tony, rather glad to be rid of his sudden burden, headed for his desk. There was work to be done, records to check out, people to call. 

An hour later, he sat up and suddenly realized that Abby had been gone with the kid for a bit too long. Knowing Gibbs would kill him if anything happened to the baby, he headed downstairs. 

The lab was quiet. It was a bit freaky, because Abby’s lab was always loud and buzzing with energy. There were only a handful occasions that Tony could remember it being quiet, and none of those had been good. 

“Abs?”

“In here, Tony.”

Abby’s words were hushed. Tony walked through the lab down to the small office – and found Abby sitting in her chair, baby sleeping against her chest.

“She got hungry, so I fed her, and then she got tired, and she just fell asleep,” Abby said. “Maybe I should’ve brought her up to you?”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Tony said. “I’m sure you can handle her better than me anyway. It took me three tries just to get the diaper on right.”

Abby giggled, quietly as not to disturb Emma. “Well, diapers are probably tougher than mixing formula. And besides, you’ll learn. How long will you be watching her?”

“Not long, I hope,” Tony said. “Until the case is closed and the bastard who killed her parents is caught.”

The elevator dinged and opened, and Gibbs, McGee and Ziva strode into the room, carrying bags of evidence. There were shell casings, blood samples, dusted fingerprints, a video camera, and a selection of other evidence.

The three stopped short at the sight of Abby and Emma.

“Forming a complete family, yes?” Ziva asked.

“Oh, I’m not mommy,” Abby said. “I think I’m more of a big-sister type.”

“Hand her over, Abs,” Gibbs said. “Tony is in charge of her and you’ve got work to do.”

“But Gibbs, she’s sleeping.”

Gibbs gave her a look and she sighed, but handed over the child into Tony’s waiting arms. Tony held her at arm’s length at first, still unsure of how to hold a baby correctly. She seemed awfully small and fragile in his hands, and he was fairly certain that she’d break if he held on too tight.

“So, what’ve you got for me, Gibbs?” Abby asked, getting up and practically sprinting back to her lab.

Gibbs, McGee and Ziva followed her. Tony looked at the baby. She was still sleeping, mouth hanging slightly open, eyes moving slightly beneath closed eyelids. She looked rather like a doll, with her father’s dark hair and perfect skin, and Tony frowned, trying to get himself to understand that this was really a little human, a person in its own right.

“DiNozzo, you gonna stand there all day?” 

Gibbs woke him from his reverie, and Tony tried his best to place Emma comfortably against his body. She felt warm and strange.

“On your six, boss,” Tony said, though not nearly as loudly as he usually did, and went into the lab.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Our male victim is Jonathan Brown,” Tony said. “Been in the Navy since he was eighteen, and just turned thirty-one. Grew up with his parents and younger sister. No criminal record, and his best friend says he’s always been a ‘good guy’. He doesn’t have very high security clearance, and nothing he’s worked with has been classified.”

“And Mrs. Brown?” Gibbs asked. 

“Mrs. Mathilda Brown is another story,” Tony said. “Born Mathilda Johnson, parents druggies, been thrown around in the system, living in a bunch of different foster homes. She had a juvie record, and when she was twenty-two she did time for drug possession. Met the lieutenant four years ago, and had been clean since. The two married two years ago, and their daughter was born in July, five months and fifteen days ago.” 

While following Mathilda Brown’s paper trail had been easy, finding people he could talk to about her, who’d known her in her childhood and adolescence, had been far harder. Very few of them still had a home and a phone number. 

“Was she involved with any particularly bad people?” Gibbs asked.

“Possibly,” Tony said. “Her time in prison was cut short because she worked with the police on getting to one of the local drug lords, with whom she’d apparently been in a relationship.”

“Sounds like a lead to me,” Gibbs said.

He barked out orders, Abby already immersed in her work. Ziva would go with Gibbs to Mathilda Brown’s old neighborhood, and McGee would check the Browns’ bank accounts. The two hurried out, and Gibbs turned to Tony.

Tony only barely managed to hold back the whining – he wanted to go check out the neighborhood too. He didn’t say anything though.

“She’s your responsibility,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony muttered.

“Abby’s fine a little now and then, same with Ducky, as long as she stays at NCIS – but no one else,” Gibbs said. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with and if they’re after her. People have gotten in here before, and I’m not taking chances. Got it?”

“Got it,” Tony said.

“Good,” Gibbs said. “I’ll have someone run out to get some baby formula for her.”

“I got a little from the Browns’, but I guess we’ll run out pretty quickly,” Tony said. “What do I do?”

“Dig into Mathilda Brown’s background,” Gibbs said. “Check her phone records, see if she’s had any contact with the drug lord she used to date.”

Emma sighed in her sleep. She was completely relaxed, warm and soft. Tony gazed down at her. She had no idea she’d just lost both her parents; it would be years before she truly understood that. For now, she was perfectly content in a stranger’s arms. 

He looked up to find Gibbs watching them, an odd look in the blue eyes. Tony wondered if he saw his own daughter in Emma, or if it was just compassion for the child – or perhaps it was a combination.

“You okay, boss?” Tony asked quietly.

Gibbs gave a tiny shake of his head, bringing himself back to the present, and strode away without another word. Tony sighed, wishing he could understand what went on in that brain of Gibbs’. It was hard enough being in love with his boss – having Gibbs gaze at Tony the way he just had, that was simply unfair. 

“You two are such a pretty picture,” Abby said, flashing past him as she hurried between machines, sorting through evidence. “She even kind of looks like you, around the nose and the lips—”

“Abby—” Tony said.

Abby grinned. “Go upstairs and work before the boss-man goes crazy. Emma’ll give you a get out of jail free card, but it’ll only work to a certain point.”

“I’d happily work all day and night long, in exchange for not taking care of her,” Tony said.

“Oh, give her a shot,” Abby said, all the while studying Mathilda Brown’s shirt. “You might find you want kids after all.”

“I really, seriously doubt it.”

“Go,” she said, smiling. 

He put Emma back in the baby carrier, feeling uncomfortable and clumsy, and tucked her in beneath a blanket. He wondered if she’d be too warm, and if she was, how was he supposed to be able to tell? Would she scream? And if she did, would he know why? He really didn’t think so.

She slept for another two hours upstairs, in the busy and rather loud squad room. He glanced at her every now and then, lying in the carrier that stood right next to his desk. He’d slept through the noise of the squad room on a few occasions, but he would’ve thought a baby was easier to rouse. Apparently not.

Once she did wake, she started screaming her head off yet again. McGee winced at the sound.

“Perhaps you should take her into one of the conference rooms,” he said. “People are trying to work here.”

Tony glared hotly at him. “ _I_ am trying to work here.”

“She’s your responsibility,” McGee said. “And you can’t possibly work in this noise.”

He couldn’t, but that was beside the point. Tony desperately wanted someone else to take over the care of the baby – after five hours with the kid, Tony yearned to hand it over to any willing person. He was not parenting material.

But he knew Gibbs would have his head if he didn’t take care of the thing. Grinding his teeth, he stood up, grabbed the bag of necessities, and pushed the carrier out of the room and into the first available conference room. 

“What do you want?” he snapped at the kid, but his words were barely heard over the loud wails.

He put the bag on the table, and then bent down and picked the kid up. 

She was red-faced from screaming and didn’t look very pretty anymore at all. However, as Tony picked her up and held her, wishing all the while for earplugs, she started to calm down.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tony said. “Calm. Calm and easy. Breathing is good for you, you know. There’s this thing called oxygen, and it’s really nice.”

She sniffled and her face scrunched up as she thought about continuing to scream, but apparently her interest in Tony’s voice won out. She reached out, tiny hands grabbing fistfuls of Tony’s hair.

“That’s my hair,” Tony said. “Ow. Ow! Let go, you little brat. My hair needs to stay exactly where it is.”

Emma’s face crumbled again, and Tony hurried to rectify his tone.

“No, no, don’t cry,” he said. “You can hold onto my hair, just don’t cry. I have really good hearing, you know, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

It seemed that more than anything, the kid wanted attention. As long as Tony’s eyes were on her and he kept talking, she didn’t wail. Now, if only he could get any work done, or Gibbs would have his head. 

However, as soon as he sat down, Emma protested at the lack of movement and attention. He quickly stood again, walking around the room and talking about the paintings, soon enough moving onto movies instead, because he didn’t really know anything about the paintings.

“You’re really too young to get any of the finer points of, well, anything,” Tony said to her, “but I’m sure I can find something that can entertain you. Or, well, maybe not. Maybe in a year or two. Yeah. Then we’ll start with—I don’t know, Teletubbies? They frighten me, but maybe you’ll like them—boss.”

“Doubt I’ll like Teletubbies, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. 

There was an amused smile on his lips as he leaned against the wall. Tony wondered how long Gibbs had been there – Tony and Emma had been turned the other way, looking out the window.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Probably not. They sing. I think. And they’re bright colors. Probably not your thing.”

Gibbs snorted, then took a few steps further into the room. “You seem to have gotten a handle on her.”

“Not really,” Tony said. “You’re more than free to take her. I’m pretty sure she blew my hearing earlier.”

“She’s calm now,” Gibbs said.

“As long as I keep talking,” Tony said. “She’s probably the first female I’ve ever interacted with who’s been interested in what I have to say.”

He grinned, and Gibbs scoffed with amusement. 

“Did you find anything about Mrs. Brown?” Tony asked.

Gibbs shrugged. “Seems she did stay clean after all. McGee checked their bank accounts, found nothing odd.”

“I managed to get a look at some of the phone records before little Miss Screamy stared,” Tony said. “There’s been five calls in the last month from the prison to the Brown residence, so she seems to have had some contact. Doesn’t mean it’s bad.”

“Anything else?” Gibbs asked.

“A few phone numbers that kept coming up,” Tony said. “I’ll check them as soon as I can get my hands free again. Unfortunately, it seems to be either my hands free and her screaming, or I’m tied down and she’s quiet.”

“Have McGee—”

“Take her?” Tony asked hopefully.

Gibbs gave him a look. “No, check the phone records. She’s yours; she seems to like you.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Tony muttered. “Kids don’t like me. It’s not normal.” He looked down at the child, who watched him with big eyes. He addressed her, “No, you’re not the least bit normal.”

She made a face at him. 

“I’d say you’ve hit it off,” Gibbs said, throwing a smile at Tony that went straight south. Still chuckling, Gibbs left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

 

By nightfall, they had checked through all the records of the family they could find, and Tony had sifted through the drug cases Mathilda Brown had been involved with. It had been all sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll until four years ago for her. Tony found it ironic that she’d finally managed to settle down, get married, have a kid – and _then_ she was murdered, rather than when she was living in a one room apartment with five other women, shooting drugs all day long.

“Wrap it up for today,” Gibbs said. “Be back at seven tomorrow, and we’ll keep going.”

Tony looked at Emma, sitting on his lap. He’d managed to get a semi-comfortable seating arrangement with her on his knee and the files on the desk. One arm was around Emma, the other one could turn the pages. She was fairly stable, he’d realized after a while; she held her head and could sit up, although she was prone to fall over this way or that every now and then, and that would result in crying. Really, most things resulted in crying.

He wasn’t looking forward to the night. He’d hoped they’d be able to wrap the case up in a single day, but obviously not. 

“DiNozzo, you’re with me,” Gibbs said as Ziva and McGee headed out.

“And Emma?” Tony asked.

“Is with you,” Gibbs said. 

“Yeah, I knew that.” Under his breath, Tony added, “Unfortunately.”

“Heard that, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said.

“Sorry, boss.”

Getting all of the stuff Emma needed together took way, way longer than just grabbing his own things. Most of it was already loaded on the baby carrier – including newly bought formula, a bag of clothes given by one of the secretaries who couldn’t resist buying it on her lunch break after seeing Emma, and a truckload of diapers. 

“Coming, boss,” he said at the impatient – and was that entertained, perhaps? – look on Gibbs’ face.

Fitting into the elevator was another adventure, but in the end, they made it down to the garage.

“Get the car seat,” Gibbs said. “I’ll watch her.”

“Are you sure?” Tony asked teasingly. “I’m only allowed to leave her with Abby and Ducky—ow.”

The head slap was expected, but worth it. He flashed a grin.

He hurried over to his own car and grabbed the car seat – oh, it looked so very wrong in his car – and managed to get it out in one piece. He installed it in Gibbs’ car without too many curses passing over his lips.

Gibbs picked Emma up – she was holding onto some toy that amused her for the moment – and fastened her in the car seat with easy motions.

“You’re really good at that,” Tony said. 

Gibbs glanced at him. “Once you’ve had one, it stays with you.”

His tone did not invite to further conversation on the subject. Tony nodded and sat down in the car. 

Gibbs drove more carefully than Tony had ever known him to do. It was like riding with a regular person. Tony found it very odd.

After parking in the driveway and getting all of Emma’s things inside – which was no small feat, to get the baby carrier out and the bag and everything else – Gibbs headed to the kitchen while Tony stood in the doorway, still with his shoes and jacket on because he couldn’t take them off while still holding the kid.

Gibbs stuck his head out, checking to see what was taking him so long.

“Ah,” he said.

He took Emma, easily placing her against his chest, and she reached up and grabbed his nose, pinching it between strong fingers. Gibbs chuckled. 

Tony stood mesmerized, watching the two interact. He imagined Gibbs younger, hair darker with only a few grays, his face less lined than it was now, smiling happily at his own child. His daughter. 

Gibbs looked up at him, small smile on his lips, and Tony shook himself into action, getting his shoes off and hanging up his jacket.

“Dinner?” he asked. 

“Pizza coming up in ten,” Gibbs said. He looked at the child. “Not for you, though. You’re getting formula.”

Emma emitted a high-pitched squeal. 

Tony followed Gibbs into the living room and they sat down on one end each of the couch. Gibbs shifted Emma to his knee. 

It felt so very strange, to sit there with Gibbs and a baby, that ‘strange’ really didn’t even begin to cover it. Tony had lots of knowledge of how good Gibbs was with kids – Gibbs was really, really good, whereas Tony was really, really bad – but Emma was the youngest one they’d had to care for since Tony joined NCIS. She wasn’t a kid yet – she was a baby. A clean slate, on which the world would make its impressions as time passed. This morning, blood red death had been printed all over her soul.

“What will happen her when the case is closed?” Tony asked.

“If there are no specifics from the Browns, or relatives willing to take care of her, she’ll go into foster care,” Gibbs said. 

Tony had heard a lot about foster homes and most of it wasn’t any good, although perhaps that wasn’t a fair view. After all, only bad things ever made headlines.

Emma was currently examining Gibbs’ shirt with her mouth.

Tony shook his head. “She drools like a dog.”

“Little kids do that,” Gibbs said.

“Little kids do a lot of things,” Tony said. “Annoying stuff. She’s got a good set of lungs, too.”

Gibbs cocked his head at Tony. “So you’ve never thought about having kids?”

“Me?” Tony asked. “Bachelor extraordinaire?”

“With all your dalliances, you might—”

“Don’t say that,” Tony said, paling. “I’m very careful with protection.”

Gibbs chuckled. The sound made Emma look up, eyes wide, but then she resumed playing with his shirt.

“Why don’t you want kids, then?” Gibbs asked.

Tony frowned. “Have you seen me with kids? I suck at it. I don’t get kids and they don’t get me.”

“It’s different when it’s your own,” Gibbs said, softly now.

“It just wouldn’t work,” Tony said. “Not with the job, not with my life. I mean, I can’t exactly go pick up my kid at daycare in the middle of a hot case. And what’d happen if something happened to me?”

“You have family,” Gibbs said.

“My father disowned me—”

“Not that bastard,” Gibbs growled. “Us. Me. Abby. McGee and Ziva, and Ducky.”

“Are you trying to talk me into having kids, boss?”

Gibbs snorted. “Nope.”

“Good,” Tony said. “Because I would suck at it, trust me.”

“Don’t think you would.” Gibbs watched Emma, softly smiling.

Tony’s eyebrows rose in surprise, but at that moment, the doorbell rang.

“That’d be dinner,” Gibbs said. “Here.”

He handed Emma to Tony. Tony wished he could take Emma with the same easy grace that Gibbs had with her, but he still felt uncomfortable. He was sure he was going to drop her on her head any second, or he’d do some other thing wrong and she’d get hurt or start screaming. 

She didn’t start screaming; she simply reached out her hands towards his face and grabbed his nose, and then she managed to get a hold of his lip and pulled, hard.

“Ow!” Tony said and after a few seconds, she let go. She gave him a most innocent look. 

Gibbs came back carrying two boxes that smelled deliciously and two bottles of beer. He set it all down on the table and then he left again, returning another few minutes later with a bottle of white stuff.

At least Tony had figured out the feeding thing. For some reason, Emma preferred to lie down with the bottle, so Tony placed her on the couch and held the bottle in place. She drank obediently. 

He felt Gibbs’ gaze on him, and looked up. “’s not polite to stare, you know.”

Gibbs merely smiled and took a bite of his pizza. 

Tony’s stomach rumbled loudly.

“Want me to take over so you can eat?” Gibbs asked.

“Please.”

Gibbs nodded, leaned over and took the place as bottle-holder while Tony took a piece of pizza and downed it in three bites. It was heavenly after a full day of screaming, diapers, and very little food for himself. He looked over at Emma, and wondered why on earth anyone would choose to have kids. What was the point? Why would anyone want to give up freedom in exchange for a screaming, attention-grabbing, pooping-and-peeing little thing that couldn’t do anything useful?

He swallowed and decided to be brave.

“Why did you want to have a kid?” 

Gibbs looked up at his question. There was some turmoil in his eyes; sadness and regret, pain and longing, but also something warm.

“Didn’t, not until I met Shannon,” he said roughly. “And we were together for years before we started talking about it. We were still young and I was like you. Didn’t think it’d work, didn’t see the point. Didn’t think I’d be any good at it.”

Now that was a ridiculous notion, Tony thought. Tony imagined Gibbs as a fantastic father – one who cared, one who had rules and might be tough sometimes, but it was all based on an infinite, unconditional love. 

Tony had never known such a thing, and it was one of many things that made him doubt his own ability to be a dad. His own father had been everything but perfect – or perhaps Tony had simply always been a bad son, as his father said. Either way, it wasn’t a recipe for successful fatherhood.

“What made you change your mind?” Tony asked, pushing on bravely, figuring that when Gibbs had had enough, he’d say as much. Or he’d simply leave.

“I grew into it,” Gibbs said. He placed the bottle on the table and picked Emma up, placing her against his shoulder and starting to walk around so that she’d burp. “Shannon got pregnant. Had nine months to prepare – and then she was there.”

Kelly. Gibbs had never spoken about her to Tony, and Tony felt like he was getting a look into something so private, no one had ever seen it before. 

“She was perfect,” Gibbs said roughly, back to Tony. “And I got even more afraid. I was sure I’d ruin her. Shannon had to force me to touch her at all.”

Gibbs stopped and the silence spread thick in the room. Somehow, it wasn’t uncomfortable; it was simply filled to the brim with emotions that hadn’t been vented in a decade and a half, perhaps more. Gibbs wasn’t a person who shared his thoughts and feelings with anyone. Tony wondered if he’d been the same way with Shannon, or if it had become his personality after Shannon and Kelly were killed.

Emma burped loudly, breaking some of the tension. Gibbs gave a low chuckle.

“Ladylike, Miss Emma,” Tony said, smiling too although it didn’t quite cover the other emotions he was feeling – pride and joy over Gibbs’ sharing, and heaviness and sadness for all that Gibbs had lost.

“Get the blanket and some toys,” Gibbs said. “Let’s see if she’ll be okay on her own for a little.”

They placed her on the floor on the colorful blanket, with a few large toys that she proceeded to try to fit into her mouth. She seemed content enough and Gibbs sat down and took a second slice of pizza. Tony, who’d stopped eating when Gibbs began talking about Kelly and being a father, took another bite.

“Abby’d make a good mom,” Tony said, deciding that they’d had enough heavy subjects for the night. “And McGee would make a good dad.”

“Together or separately?” Gibbs asked.

“Both,” Tony smiled. “If they have kids together, they’ll have mini-Einsteins. They’ll graduate MIT at the age of four, or something.”

Gibbs chuckled. 

“And Ziva’d be the cool aunt,” Tony said. “And Ducky could be the grandpa, with the stories and presents and stuff.”

“What about us?” Gibbs asked.

Tony ignored the way his heart flipped at how Gibbs asked about them as an ‘us’. 

“I’d be the cool uncle, of course,” Tony said. “You’d be—uh. The strict uncle, I think. You know, the one with all the rules, but who the kids love anyway. Come to think of it, they’ll probably think you’re the cool one, and I’m the stupid one.”

He added the last part with a roll of his eyes. Kids really didn’t like him, and Abby and McGee’s possible future children would be no exception. They’d love Gibbs, though. Kids loved Gibbs.

Tony startled when Gibbs placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder.

“Emma doesn’t think you’re stupid,” Gibbs said.

“Emma is five months old,” Tony said. “She doesn’t know how to form an opinion yet. As soon as she does—”

He stopped when Gibbs fingers moved to his chin, bringing it up so that Tony looked Gibbs in the eye. 

“Stop being self-depreciative,” Gibbs said. “Won’t get you anywhere.”

Tony flashed back to the only other time Gibbs had ever touched him this way – when he was being framed for murder and had his breakdown right in front of Gibbs. Gibbs had kept him from falling over the edge into insanity at that point – Gibbs with his head slaps and eyes that said everything, even when his mouth didn’t.

Tony licked his lips unconsciously at the near proximity to Gibbs. God, the man was beautiful. 

Emma chose that moment to start wailing and Tony wasn’t sure whether he should thank her or curse her. Probably the former, because she’d just stopped him from leaning over and kissing Gibbs. That would have been a monumentally stupid move.

Tony bent down and picked Emma up off the floor while Gibbs cleared away the pizza boxes and the untouched beers. 

“Now what?” Tony asked. “You should go to bed, you know. It’s late for little princesses such as yourself.”

He was tired too, but he doubted the night would offer much in the way of sleeping – not with a baby in the room.

“I’ve put the carrier in the guest room,” Gibbs said, returning to the living room. 

“Thanks,” Tony said.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say something more, but he swallowed it back like a bitter pill. Emma screamed and Tony rubbed her back, closing his eyes. He didn’t notice the look of longing on Gibbs’ face.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

 

The room was mostly dark, with strands of moonlight and streetlights spilling in through the window. 

Tony did little more than sleepwalk, screams piercing his skull, the sound coming from just below his ear. Emma refused to settle and he’d taken too long with the bottle – now she simply refused to eat. Or drink. Whatever. 

“C’mon, kiddo,” Tony muttered. “We both need to sleep, you know. And you shouldn’t wake up Gibbs. He’ll be really pissy about it.”

He sat down on the chair again, trying once more to get her to latch onto the bottle. He let the nipple touch her lips and she squirmed and screamed, tears streaming down red cheeks. But then, wonders of wonders, as he persisted and all but shoved the nipple into her mouth, she started suckling.

“There you go,” Tony mumbled. “Not so hard, was it?”

The silence was blessed, interrupted only by a few stray mewling cries and gurgling as she downed the formula. Tony felt his eyelids drop, heavy as though lined with lead. It was four in the morning and he could barely get his body to function – hence the time it had taken for him to get her out of the carrier, warm the formula, and give it to her. 

After a while, she stopped suckling with such force and her eyes closed as well, as sleep began to overtake her once more. Tony shifted her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she burped. Tiny hands curled against his naked torso, flannel-clad body relaxing against his own. Silence and two steady breaths filled the room.

He realized he’d nodded off when he felt warm hands take a hold of Emma. Instinctively, he held her tighter, eyes snapping open, moving to stand protectively. 

A hand held him down.

“Just me, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said softly. “Just thought you two might be more comfortable in bed.”

“Gibbs,” Tony mumbled. “Yeah. Yes. Bed.”

Emma slept soundly now and didn’t react when he placed her gently in the baby carrier. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you, boss,” Tony said.

“You didn’t.” Gibbs nodded at the baby. “She did. Can’t hit ‘mute’ on a child.”

Tony smiled sleepily. “Guess not.”

“Sleep, Tony,” Gibbs said.

“Sleep,” Tony agreed. 

Gibbs all but led him back to bed. Once Tony was down, Gibbs pulled the covers over him.

“You tucking me in, boss?” Tony wondered, lids half-closed in sleep already.

Gibbs didn’t answer, but Tony caught the small smile on his lips. Then he was out like a light, sleep claiming him before he managed another conscious thought.

  
\---

Morning came all too soon and with it the soft cries of a baby. With a bit more sleep under his belt, Tony managed to drag himself out of bed and get Emma out of the carrier, and into the kitchen before the sniffs and whimpers had turned into full-blown screaming.

Gibbs was already in the kitchen, making coffee. He handed Tony a bottle, already warmed.

“Thanks,” Tony said and shoved the bottle into Emma’s mouth. She accepted it and Tony went into the living room to sit on the couch and feed her. He put her down and then laid down beside her, holding the bottle in place for her. She watched him with curious, aware eyes.

“You know what’s going on around you, don’t you?” Tony said. “You’re just pretending to not know, so that you get to observe instead. I’m sure you’ll be great undercover in a few years.”

She smacked her tongue and drank more formula in response. 

Tony sobered as he thought of what her future might really hold. Years in foster families, hopefully good ones, but still without the safety of family. Not that family was any guarantee for safety, but still—

He smelled coffee and sawdust. “You’re turning into a voyeur, boss.”

A low chuckle came as a response. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Do you have any cereal?” Tony asked.

“I’ll see what I can find,” Gibbs said.

Emma finished her bottle and Tony sat up, picking her up onto his lap.

“This is getting to be routine,” he said to her. 

She smiled at him. After a few minutes, she burped, and he wiped her chin and was glad that he had yet to dress. Getting baby throw-up off a towel and his shoulder was so much easier than getting it off a shirt, even though it was still gross.

He headed into the kitchen.

“Ooh, breakfast,” he said upon spotting a bowl of cereal, a carton of milk standing beside it. 

“Want me to take her?” Gibbs asked.

Tony handed Emma over, heading for the bowl. The cereal wasn’t the ones he was used to, but with a bit of extra sugar and lots of milk, it went down fine.

“Can we stop by Starbucks and get some coffee too?” Tony asked.

“There’s coffee,” Gibbs said, nodding towards the pot.

Tony made a face. “That’s not coffee, boss. That’s black poison.”

Gibbs glared at him but Tony simply grinned. 

Twenty minutes later, they were off. It had taken two minutes for Tony to finish the cereal, and a total of four minutes for him to get dressed, brush his teeth, fix his hair, and find the car keys, but then there had been another fourteen minutes of making sure they had everything they needed for Emma. 

They made a quick stop at Starbucks, Tony getting a latte with extra-sugary syrup and Gibbs getting simple black coffee – Tony ordered while Gibbs stayed in the car with Emma, because getting Emma out would have taken much, much longer – and then they arrived at NCIS headquarters.

Despite the morning rituals taking much longer than they usually did for Tony, he and Gibbs were still first of the team to arrive. Tony sat down and with Emma on his lap – because he knew she’d start screaming if she stayed in the baby carrier for any longer period of time when it stood still; it was understandably boring – and turned on his computer.

He didn’t work nearly as efficiently as he usually did, with a kid on his lap. Still, he got done, and once Ziva and McGee had arrived, he could concentrate more on keeping Emma entertained. For once, Ziva and McGee didn’t appear annoyed with his lack of concentration on work.

“You two seem to be getting along better today,” McGee said.

“Oh yeah, we bonded at three thirty this morning,” Tony said, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds fun,” McGee said, wincing. 

Tony shrugged. 

Gibbs returned to the squad room from wherever he’d been, demanding an update.

“I interviewed the neighbors,” Ziva said. “One of them heard gunshots, but did not see anything because it was dark. The others were asleep and of no help to us; the one who called it in was also asleep when it happened.”

“Abby found no fingerprints that shouldn’t be there,” Tony said. “The camcorder was of no use, just old footage.”

“She did match one of the bloody shoe prints at the scene to a military boot,” McGee said. 

“Not much to go on,” Tony said. “It’s a Navy base, after all.”

“I am aware of that fact,” McGee said, sounding annoyed. “But go ahead and tell Abby that what she’s found is useless.”

“I don’t have a death wish,” Tony grinned. 

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs snapped.

“I checked the phone records,” Tony said. Reporting felt odd with a baby on his hip – but then most things felt weird with a kid on his lap. “One number keeps coming back up. It belongs to a Petty Officer Rosen. She’s been calling the Browns several times a week in the last three months.”

“A friend?” Ziva asked.

“She’s in Lieutenant Brown’s unit,” Tony said. “She’s been calling his cell phone a whole lot too, for a friend.”

“A lover?” McGee asked.

“Find out,” Gibbs said. “Does Abby have a size for the shoe print?”

“Uh,” McGee said, searching his notes. “A size six and a half.”

“Woman’s size,” Tony said. Emma looked up at him with big eyes. “You can’t wear size six and a half yet, Miss Emma. It’d eat you up.”

She grinned at him. He wondered how she could trust so easily.

“Get me an address for Petty Officer Rosen,” Gibbs said. “I want to know what she was doing yesterday morning.”

“Yes, boss,” McGee said, and Ziva grabbed her gear, ready to go with Gibbs.

“What about me?” Tony asked, though he knew what the answer would be.

“You stay here with her,” Gibbs said. 

Tony grumbled. “Yes, boss.”

Gibbs smiled slightly at him. “Go down to Abby for a while. She’ll enjoy the company.”

It was some sort of peace offering, an olive branch for putting Tony through this. Tony wasn’t sure it was all a negative experience, even though he was still far from understanding as to why anyone would have kids willingly. Tony had gotten a few good things out of this – most especially, he got to stay at Gibbs’ for the night. 

He grabbed the carrier and pulled it along with one hand, holding Emma with the other. She wasn’t all that heavy. 

The music was loud and obnoxious in the forensics lab and Tony held his hands over Emma’s ears until he could turn it down.

“What—Tony!” Abby said, turning to find him. “And little Missy Em! What are you doing down here? I already told you guys what I found.”

“I’m still on babysitting duty,” Tony said. “Gibbs told me to come down and bother you for a while, instead of just moping around the squad room.”

Abby smiled widely. “You’re welcome down here. Oh, you’re such a sweetheart.”

“I know,” Tony grinned.

Abby slapped his arm lightly. “Not you. Well, you too, but Emma – she’s just so cute!”

“Not so cute when she wouldn’t stop screaming this morning,” Tony said. 

“Aww,” Abby said. “Did you keep Tony up all night, sweetie? I understand why – he’s a hottie, and I’d keep him up all night too if had the chance.”

“Abby!” Tony said, but he couldn’t manage outrage. 

Abby grinned. “So, did Gibbs keep you up all night too?”

“Abby,” Tony said, this time in a more warning tone.

Abby rolled her eyes. “It’s not like it’s news. And if you’re not already doing each other, you really should be. It’d be hot. Really hot. And you’re in love with him, so that’s even better.”

“Abby!” Tony said for the third time and this time he had no trouble sounding scandalized.

Abby grinned and patted his cheek. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

He’d suspected she knew, but she hadn’t said anything before. Then again, Abby always knew. She had a built-in lie detector – perhaps it came from always piecing together puzzles from tiny bits, while still managing to see the whole picture. 

Tony sighed. He wondered if anyone else had realized. After all, they were all good investigators – even McGee – and none of them were stupid. His heart pounded a bit harder – what if Gibbs found out? God, he didn’t want to think about that. Except he did, because a part of him desperately wanted to know how Gibbs would react. 

Emma emitted a high-pitched squeal that tore through Tony’s thoughts. 

“You want attention again?” Tony asked. “You know, you’re a really egocentric little girl.”

She just smiled and made sounds, reaching out to grab a handful of Tony’s hair. Tony thought seriously about cutting his hair off completely – those tiny hands were strong.

Abby smiled, continuing to work but glancing over at them. “You two are really cute together.”

“Don’t start again, Abs,” Tony said. “I’m not having kids.”

“Should be criminal to be as hot as you and not have kids,” Abby grinned. “Those genes should be passed on.”

“Did the sperm bank thing,” Tony said. “No one wanted—uh, me.”

“Do they get to see pictures, or is it all descriptions? Because your description would totally not be as good as a photo,” Abby said. She grinned, “Unless it said ‘hot-hot-hot’ with really big letters.”

Tony shook his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Don’t I know it,” Abby said. “But still. You’d have really cute kids. You know—”

She trailed off and a wicked glint flashed in her eyes. Tony recognized it as harboring of trouble. No matter what Abby had thought of, it wouldn’t be good for him – especially not when her fingers flew over her keyboard and the grin was so wide, it was a good thing she had ears to stop it from going all the way ‘round her head.

“She’s up to no good,” he muttered to Emma. Emma just squealed. “I’m sure you’ll be just as devilish when you grow up, won’t you? Women are devilish.”

“Is that why you want Gibbs instead?” Abby grinned, not taking her eyes off the screen.

“Abby, keep it down,” Tony hissed.

“These walls are soundproof,” Abby shrugged.

“The door isn’t closed!” Tony said.

Abby glanced over her shoulder and frowned for a second. “There’s that.”

“What are you doing?” He came over to her.

“One second and—there!” Abby said. “Aaw, you’d have such cute kids.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. The photo on the right was Tony, the one on the left was—Gibbs. And in the middle, a blue-eyed girl with dark blond hair and chubby cheeks. It was possible it was a cute kid, but Tony stuck by the notion that all kids looked alike up until a certain point.

“Abby! Take that down!” Tony hissed. 

Abby giggled. “Too bad it can’t be reality.”

Tony glared at her. Abby rolled her eyes but finally clicked the image away. 

“You shouldn’t get angry,” Abby said.

“I’m not angry,” Tony said.

Abby nodded at Emma. “Then she doesn’t know the difference.”

Tony looked down to find Emma, her face scrunching up, and a second later, wails filled the room. Tony winced and looked at her, thinking that she wasn’t very cute when she was crying.

“I didn’t mean it,” Tony said helplessly. “I didn’t mean to sound angry. I’m not angry with you. Please stop. Please?”

But she didn’t listen; she just kept screaming. Tony knew they were nearing lunchtime for her anyway and he grabbed a bottle and formula from the bag hanging off the carrier.

“I’m just gonna go,” he sighed to Abby.

She nodded. “Good luck.”

“Yeah,” Tony muttered.

He went up to the cafeteria, which was thankfully empty because it wasn’t quite lunchtime for the grownups yet. Using one hand, he mixed the formula – spilling all over the place because Emma squirmed and screamed in his ear – and warmed it in the microwave.

He tested it against his wrist, but wasn’t sure what he was trying to achieve by that; he didn’t know how hot was too hot, or how cold was too cold. He figured that if it didn’t burn him, it wouldn’t burn her, and as long as it didn’t feel icy cold, it’d be fine. He hoped. He really didn’t want to face disciplinary charges or something because he’d hurt her with his lack of knowledge – actually, he didn’t want to hurt her, period.

Tony pushed the bottle into her mouth, but she screamed around it and refused to take the nipple.

“You’re seriously getting on my nerves,” Tony said. “Gibbs always smacks me on the head when I get on his nerves – I don’t think I should try the same with you.”

She screamed more in response.

“You agree, obviously,” Tony said, talking normally as though his audience wasn’t one squiggling, wailing baby. “Well, what else does my dear boss do? He glares at me. Doubt that’d work here. But it is a nice glare. Really. He’s got nice eyes. They’re very blue.”

He tried pushing the nipple into her mouth again, to no avail. Her face was an unpleasant tone of red and fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she protested against whatever it was she was protesting. He sighed and held her up, sniffing her – and that too felt weird, even though he’d done it on a couple of occasions since the day before – and decided that once she’d calmed, she might need a diaper change. But he was nowhere near good enough to do it when she was this angry. 

They’d set up the changing area down in the men’s bathroom on Abby’s floor, because it wasn’t used all that much. In the men’s room, because obviously Tony was the one who was going to change her. At least he’d gotten better at it since yesterday morning; it usually only took him one attempt now.

“Love, you need to breathe.” He hugged her awkwardly to his chest. “It’s no good for you to not breathe.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her back, massaging ever so gently. His head hurt, every wail she emitted passing through his brain like an electrical shock. Still, he couldn’t do anything but stay – hopefully, she’d calm down eventually. He couldn’t very well put her in her carrier – which he realized now he probably shouldn’t have left in Abby’s room, because it’d have been practical to be able to put her down. It also contained the diapers.

He sighed again. 

“Gibbs would know what to do with you,” he said. “Gibbs always knows. He’s like Superman, or something. A really grouchy, bastardly Superman, but still. And he’s got grey hair, and he’s too old to be Clark Kent – not that you’d ever hear me tell him he’s too old for anything.”

He realized suddenly that he could hear his own voice again. Not daring to move beyond continuing to rub her back, Tony kept talking. She had calmed, no doubt about it. The wails were becoming weaker and she sniffed between them. He glanced down and saw that he would need a napkin – she had snot all over the lower part of her face. 

“I’ll just keep talking about Gibbs, then,” Tony said. “There’s some sort of irony that he’d know how to calm you and then you calm down while I’m talking about him.”

He kept talking in a low voice, feeling as she heaved in little tiny breaths, and in the end he was allowed to put the nipple into her mouth. She drank her lunch calmly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

 

Petty Officer Rosen was nowhere to be found; she had been UA for two weeks. McGee had put a BOLO out and was trying to track her down by way of cell phone and credit cards, with no luck. Gibbs and Ziva had spoken to the other members of Lieutenant Brown’s unit, only to get an image of Petty Officer Elliot Rosen as a pretty but introverted woman who’d displayed more than a healthy interest in Lieutenant Brown.

After three of the other members of the unit hinted that she might have had a relationship with Brown, she became their prime suspect; more so after they looked at her service records, and found several notations of violence.

For Tony, all it meant was that when the hour became late, he got to go home to Gibbs again, Emma in tow. She watched curiously as Tony carried her into the house, Gibbs grabbing the carrier and all the other necessities. 

They had Chinese takeout for dinner – they’d stopped on the way to Gibbs’ house – and Emma sat on the couch beside Tony, leaning against its back, studying an empty milk carton with great interest, putting it in her mouth or simply staring at it.

“So you think Elliot Rosen went postal and killed Brown and his wife?” Tony asked around a bite of food.

“Maybe,” Gibbs said. “Until we’ve talked to her, I’m not assuming anything.”

Tony looked at Emma. “Her parents are dead, possibly because her father couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

His own dad had had numerous affairs, but he’d had enough money and good lawyers to keep those women from ever becoming a problem. 

“We don’t know if Brown had an affair with her,” Gibbs said. “She might just’ve been obsessed with him.”

“She was pretty,” Tony said, shrugging.

“And a man can’t refrain from cheating on his wife because he has a pretty co-worker?” Gibbs asked.

Tony made a face. “Not if you’re my father.”

“Ah,” Gibbs said. 

“Did you ever cheat?” Tony asked, and then he flushed. “Forget I asked.”

Gibbs cocked his head to the side. “No, I didn’t. Not with a woman, in any case.”

“A man?” Tony asked, winking, because it was an opening he couldn’t resist.

“No,” Gibbs said, tone serious despite the kidding sound of Tony’s question. “But I think all my ex-wives would say I cheated on them with work.”

“Ah, yeah,” Tony said. “I can understand that.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Tony inhaling a carton and a half of the stuff, because he hadn’t had much of a chance to eat, what with having Emma on his arm all day long. 

He didn’t mind as much as he had the day before. There was something calming about having a kid around, at least when she didn’t scream. And she didn’t seem to mind him the way other kids did – although he still suspected that was only because she didn’t have enough developed brain cells to understand the concept of disliking someone. She didn’t mind anyone else either – Abby was fine, Gibbs was as popular as ever, and Emma had giggled in Ducky’s arms as he swung her around. Ducky acted like the grandfather Tony had expected him to.

“Want some coffee?” Gibbs asked.

“Your kind of coffee?” Tony asked. “It’ll burn a hole through my intestines.”

Gibbs rolled his eyes, but stood and removed the dirty dishes from the table. Tony heard him move around in the kitchen.

“Should we go check out what he’s doing?” he asked Emma. He wondered if it should feel so natural to talk to someone who didn’t understand a word. He’d never had a dog, or a cat, or any other animal to talk to, so it was a new thing for him.

Emma grinned at him and he picked her up. At least he was getting better at that. She pulled at his hair.

“You know, it really looks better if my hair’s still stuck to my head,” Tony said.

She didn’t care; he hadn’t expected her to.

“Need any help?” he asked Gibbs, coming into the kitchen.

“Just keep her happy and I’ll do the rest,” Gibbs said. “You’re doing a good job.”

“Don’t know about that,” Tony said. “You should’ve heard her earlier, when she was having her own, not-so-private screaming fest of the year. Didn’t think she’d ever shut up.”

Gibbs gave him an amused smile. “The world of babies.”

“Not one I’d planned on stepping into, boss,” Tony said. “In fact, one I’d hoped to avoid.”

“I noticed,” Gibbs said.

“Was that why you gave her to me?” Tony asked. “To see how I’d react?”

“I put you with her because you’re my Senior Field Agent,” Gibbs said, “And she’s a huge responsibility.”

“I guess,” Tony said. “All the more reason why she should be with someone who can really take care of her.”

“And who’d be better than you?” Gibbs asked.

“I—uh,” Tony said and frowned. “I guess Ziva would be a really bad idea.”

“Uh-huh,” Gibbs agreed.

“And McGee would probably drop her or something,” Tony said, and added with a slight wince, “Not saying that that won’t happen with me. But I guess you need him for computer stuff.”

“Mm-hmm,” Gibbs said.

“Abby?” Tony said.

“Not a field agent and if Emma’s parents’ murderer comes after Emma, Abby can’t protect her,” Gibbs said. “Obviously, the same goes for Ducky.”

“And I’m guessing the Director wouldn’t want to baby-sit?” Tony asked. 

“Not really, no,” Gibbs said.

“What about you?” Tony asked. “You’re good with babies and you carry a gun, and you could definitely protect her.”

“Team leader,” Gibbs said. “I delegate.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but smiled. Hearing Gibbs’ reasoning was reassuring – he was, in fact, the best choice for taking care of Emma. McGee would probably have done a good job too, but he wouldn’t be able to work at all if he couldn’t use his hands. Tony could still do his job – thinking outside the box, reading, putting out BOLO:s and doing searches – with Emma on his lap.

His thoughts came to a stop as he smelled a dirty diaper. He wrinkled his nose.

“I’ll be right back,” he said to Gibbs.

Gibbs had put up the changing stuff on the washing machine in the bathroom and Tony placed Emma there. He undressed her and pulled off the diaper. A poop-filled diaper still made him slightly sick. 

He read carefully on the bottles to make sure he did things in the correct order – there were wipes, and powder, and cream, and getting it all right wasn’t the easiest thing. He was getting better, though. 

He found himself talking to her as she squealed and reached out for him. 

“Little Miss Emma, I think you might be changing me,” Tony said conspiratorially to her. “If you’d told me just two days ago that I’d be talking to a baby while changing her—well, I’d sent you to the mental ward. Not that you don’t belong there anyway. Because you’re crazy. Yes, you are.”

He poked a finger in her side, tickling her, and she squealed with joy. He realized he enjoyed the sound; it made him happy too.

“We should give her a bath,” Gibbs said, making Tony jump.

“Gibbs. Hi,” Tony said, embarrassment tinting his cheeks. “Do you have a bath for her?”

“I have a plastic basin we can use,” Gibbs said.

Fifteen minutes later, a bath had been drawn for Emma. The water was just around lukewarm, but Gibbs assured him that it was good for her.

“Now, hold onto her at all times,” Gibbs said. 

“You should do this,” Tony said uncertainly.

Gibbs gave him a look. “You can do it. You’ve managed everything else just fine.”

“But what if she gets hurt?” Tony asked. “What if she drowns?”

“She won’t drown,” Gibbs said, rather more patiently than Tony would have expected.

Emma seemed to like getting into the water. She splashed Tony within five seconds of getting in, and he heard Gibbs chuckle.

“Perhaps you should’ve taken off your shirt,” Gibbs said.

Tony glared at him. “Yeah, thanks for the warning.”

With a little bit of soap and some help from Gibbs, Tony managed to keep Emma upright and clean her off. Emma grinned and splashed around in her tiny tub and managed to get Gibbs wet too. 

Tony’s mouth went dry when Gibbs pulled his shirt off. Damn, that man looked fine. 

He swallowed and forced his attention back to Emma. He thought he saw Gibbs smirking out of the corner of his eye but he refused to look that way to make sure; if he did, he would most certainly need a cold shower.

After twenty minutes, Emma was up again and Tony wrapped her up in a towel and dried her off. He kissed her head; her hair was still wet, dark and slicked down, but she looked up at him and smiled sleepily.

She was nearly asleep by the time Tony had dressed her in her pajama. He held her close and rubbed her back until her body relaxed into sleep. 

Placing her in her carrier and leaving the guest bedroom, Tony returned to the bathroom. Gibbs was cleaning up.

“This place looks like a war zone,” Tony said, fighting to keep his voice normal as he watched Gibbs – still naked from the waist up – move around. He felt his pants grow tight at the sight.

“’s not so bad,” Gibbs said. “Sleeping?”

“Oh yeah,” Tony said. “Out like a light.”

Hopefully she’d stay that way for a while, though Tony had little hope of being allowed to sleep through the night. 

As Gibbs finished he looked at Tony. “Go grab a dry shirt.”

Tony looked down at himself. His shirt was soaked all over the front and his pants were wet down to the knees. 

“Don’t have any more changes with me,” Tony said.

“Take one of mine,” Gibbs said. “We’ll swing by your place tomorrow.”

“You don’t think we’ll be done by tomorrow?” Tony asked. He smirked, and added, “Or are you hoping I’ll move in?”

“Go grab a shirt, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled.

Tony grinned, though he wasn’t sure why. Gibbs lack of answer didn’t mean anything, nor did the way Gibbs’ gaze roamed up and down his body. It was all in his imagination.

He found a blue shirt at the top of one of the drawers in Gibbs’ bedroom. The bedroom was dark, the walls painted in a rich, dark purple color. It didn’t seem like a color Gibbs would chose – not because it didn’t suit him, but because Gibbs couldn’t care less about interior design – and it had probably been chosen by ex-wife number three instead.

The bed – a king sized thing with white linens – was perfectly made, just as Tony expected. One could take the Marine out of the Navy, but never the Navy out of the Marine. Gibbs would be on his death bed and still make the most perfect bed.

He pulled his shirt off and went back to the bathroom, blue shirt in hand.

“Got anywhere I can hang this up to dry?” he asked.

Gibbs looked up and stopped. This time Tony was sure that it wasn’t his imagination – Gibbs’ gaze did travel up and down his naked torso, mouth slightly open. 

A second later, the usual mask was firmly back in place.

“There,” Gibbs said, pointing in the general direction of a hanger where his own shirt already hung.

Tony shrugged on Gibbs’ shirt. It wasn’t the same quality as the ones he bought – Sears wasn’t known for its latest Italian fashion – but it felt good nonetheless, just because it was Gibbs’ shirt.

“There’s coffee in the kitchen,” Gibbs said, striding past him.

Tony smirked. Gibbs was having a reaction to him – Gibbs never avoided his gaze. 

He wondered if it was as good reaction or a bad one. And if against all hope it was good, would Gibbs actually think it was good? Would he act on it? Would he fire Tony if Tony acted on it?

Once in the kitchen, Gibbs handed Tony a cup of coffee. He was still shirtless and it was making Tony’s mouth dry with the thoughts running wildly through his head – what would Gibbs’ lips feel like against his own, what would Gibbs do if Tony pressed close and just ravished him—

“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking a sip of coffee.

The air was charged, sparkling with tension. Tony’s heart beat loudly – it should be loud enough for Gibbs to hear, he thought, because Gibbs had always had very good hearing—

He placed the coffee cup on the counter, not really noticing his own hands shaking.

Then he took two steps forward into Gibbs’ personal space.

Gibbs’ blue eyes were alight, the gaze searing through Tony, right into his soul. They stood close enough to feel each others’ breaths; Gibbs’ was warm and hot and slightly fast. 

Tony’s hand came up, hesitating a second before making contact with Gibbs. Then his fingers touched Gibbs’ chest and he could feel Gibbs’ heartbeat, just as fast as his own, pounding away against the ribcage. He wondered how often Gibbs’ heart raced – he was always the picture of calm, collected even when standing in the eye of the storm.

Tony used his other hand to brush lightly against Gibbs’ cheek. The stubble felt rough beneath his fingers and Gibbs opened his mouth to say something. Tony’s hand moved to cover his mouth, lightly stopping him. 

He leaned in and closed his eyes, meeting Gibbs’ warm lips. He pressed his body against Gibbs’, feeling the hard planes and warm skin. Gibbs breathed against his lips and kissed him back, just barely, uncertainly, in a way that was so not like Gibbs that Tony was temped for a second to open his eyes to see that it was really Leroy Jethro Gibbs he was kissing.

But he didn’t really have to, because he knew. He knew the smell of sawdust and coffee, he knew the warmth and sense of belonging. He had kissed hundreds of women and a dozen or two men, but no one had ever been so right.

Then Gibbs moved, his arms circling Tony’s waist, and he pulled Tony closer. Gibbs bent his head just fractionally and suddenly Tony was being kissed for real, hungrily, the pace changing in a second. Gibbs kissed possessively, nibbling, biting, sucking, drawing out a moan from Tony and making his knees nearly buckle with the intensity.

When they pulled back they were both breathing hard and Tony could feel Gibbs’ arousal against his thigh, just as he knew Gibbs could feel Tony’s.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re a really good kisser, boss?” Tony asked, breath still quick, still leaning in close to Gibbs. Gibbs wasn’t letting go and Tony didn’t want to leave.

“Not so bad yourself,” he muttered.

“I know, I’ve been told,” Tony grinned, because now that he’d kissed Gibbs he felt invincible. He’d kissed Gibbs, and Gibbs had reciprocated. Tony felt like he could do anything.

Gibbs’ hand moved up to smack Tony lightly, more of a caress than a smack.

“How long?” Gibbs asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugged, because there was no point in playing dumb and pretending not to understand the question. “A year, maybe six. Never thought you’d actually be interested.”

Gibbs didn’t respond to that; he leaned in instead and kissed Tony again. Tony ground against Gibbs, which made Gibbs gasp. Tony smiled, satisfied – Gibbs wasn’t the only one who could heat things up.

But he said, “We should stop, or I won’t be able to.”

“Why stop?” Gibbs asked.

“Words with more than one syllable not your thing anymore, boss?” Tony asked, smirking.

“Stop calling me ‘boss’ when we’re doing this,” Gibbs said.

Tony grinned. “What can I call you?”

“Gibbs,” Gibbs said. “Or Jethro.”

“Jethro,” Tony said, trying it out. He’d said it to himself a couple of times, to get used to the name, but he’d never called Gibbs by his first name to his face before. “Did your parents not like you?”

Gibbs growled and lunged in for another kiss. Before Tony’s mind took a vacation, he thought that this was a much better way for Gibbs to shut him up than smacking him. Then all he could think about was Gibbs’ lips, and tongue, and hands, and cock, and all of his body, pushing, pressing, holding, licking, sucking—

They left a trail of clothes on the floor as they made their way to the bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

 

Emma didn’t care much that Gibbs and Tony had only had about an hour of sleep when she started wailing.

Stumbling out of Gibbs’ bed, body sore and mind sleepy but still happy, Tony made his way to the guest bedroom. The house was dark and he hit his foot on something, and he swore, but finally made it. Emma’s cries cut into his brain like a sharp knife.

“There, there,” he mumbled. “You’re okay. Let’s go make some food, shall we? That’s what you want, isn’t it? Oh yeah, food.”

He held her close as he went into the kitchen, and found that Gibbs had already prepared formula. It was in the refrigerator, ready to be put in the microwave oven for just a minute, and then it was done. He sent a mental thank you to Gibbs.

“See, we’re more efficient today,” Tony said. “Well, tonight. But who cares. Here. Eat.”

He held the nipple to Emma’s lips and it took a few seconds, but she latched on and started downing the liquid at high speed. Tony moved back to the guest bedroom and sat down as he had the night before. Emma was blessedly silent, tiny hands wrapped around the bottle as well. Tony gazed down at her, still wondering why anyone would do this by choice – but at the same time there was a speck of something else; a semblance of understanding. 

After a while, Emma stopped drinking with the same vigor and she began dozing off, nipple still in her mouth. Tony put the bottle on the nightstand and stood up with her, patting her back gently. He mostly just wanted to go to sleep – blissfully, he remembered that Gibbs’ warm embrace awaited him in bed – but Emma would start screaming again if she hadn’t been burped correctly. Ducky had said something about gases hurting her if she wasn’t burped. Tony wondered how the human race had managed to stay alive so long. 

Gibbs stood in the doorway suddenly, looking far more awake than Tony. There was a small smile on his lips, barely visible in the darkness of the room.

Tony put Emma down, thinking she looked like a doll. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Gibbs said, very softly, hand on the small of Tony’s back, leading him back to the bedroom. “She’ll sleep till morning.”

“I hope so,” Tony said, yawning as he climbed into bed. He glanced at Gibbs. “Wait, does this mean I’m the mom, and you’re the dad? I don’t want to be a mom.”

Gibbs shook his head, smiling fondly. “Go to sleep, Tony.”

Tony snuggled up close, head resting on Gibbs’ shoulder. “Yes, boss.”

He fell asleep within seconds.

  
\---

Morning came all too soon, but Tony had to admit that the feeling of waking up with Gibbs’ warm body pressed against his own was decidedly pleasant. He could get used to it.

He doubted he could get used to – or wanted to get used to – waking up to the sound of shrill crying. 

He groaned – but then felt Gibbs get up. 

“I’ll take her,” Gibbs said quietly.

Tony opened a sleepy eye to watch as Gibbs left the bedroom. He felt thankful, even though he knew that Gibbs was as responsible for Emma’s wellbeing as Tony was. It was their burden to share, even if Gibbs had delegated babysitting to Tony.

Once he managed to drag himself out of bed – the cries had quieted by then – Tony put on a pot of coffee and grabbed some cereal in the kitchen. Gibbs was sitting in the living room with Emma lying on her back on the couch, drinking her breakfast. She looked content – and so did Gibbs, if that was possible.

He poured a cup of coffee for Gibbs and handed it to him as he returned to the kitchen. 

“Thanks,” Gibbs said.

“A thanks?” Tony asked. “For coffee? I should’ve slept with you years ago. A grunt is the most I’ve ever gotten at work.”

Gibbs glowered at him. “Nothing changes there.”

Tony shrugged. “I figured as much. Rule number twelve and all. But that only applies to dating – are we dating? Dating Gibbs. That even sounds weird.”

Gibbs continued to glare, but there was a hint of amusement on his lips.

“Do we tell anyone?” Tony asked.

“Let’s see what happens,” Gibbs said.

“Abby will find out:” Tony couldn’t help but grin. “She’s like a bloodhound. She told me we should have sex.”

Gibbs made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Let’s see what happens.”

Finishing his cereal, Tony put the bowl away. “Want me to take her?”

Gibbs handed Emma over and then he put the towel he’d worn on his shoulder in the sink.

“We should probably change you before we leave, shouldn’t we?” Tony said to Emma. She gazed back at him with large blue eyes and blew raspberries at him.

Tony wondered if he’d have to give her away today. Would they solve the case and find Rosen? He hoped so – most of him, anyway. There was a small part, a tiny part, one that was only barely allowed to voice its thoughts, that didn’t really want them to solve the case. Not just yet. 

He pondered the possibility of keeping track of her, just to know that she was all right. It wasn’t that he cared – he didn’t, not really; she was just another case and a screaming, rather annoying one at that – but he’d been stuck with her for two days, and up with her for two nights, and she was just so sweetly innocent now, a bit of saliva dribbling down her cheek. He wanted to make sure that she would be all right, despite the horrors of her parents being murdered. 

He changed her, the movements becoming easier and smoother with each time he did it, and he dressed her in a beige onesie with teddy bears on it. She giggled when he tickled her and looked up at him with big eyes when he kissed the top of her head. 

The shrill sound of Gibbs’ cell phone echoed through the house. A minute later, Gibbs yelled, “DiNozzo!”

“Yes, boss?” Tony came back, carrying Emma to the kitchen.

“Got a hit on the BOLO,” Gibbs said. “Elliot Rosen’s been spotted in Arlington.”

Tony’s heart beat a bit faster. “Are we going?”

“I’m going,” Gibbs said. “You’re staying here, with her.”

“But boss—”

“DiNozzo, I’m not bringing a baby to the possible arrest of her parents’ murderer,” Gibbs snapped. “It’s not a discussion. You’re staying here.”

Tony sighed. “Can I at least go to the office with her?”

Gibbs nodded. “Yeah. Have McGee pick you up.”

“What about Ziva?” Tony asked.

“She’s coming with me,” Gibbs said. He was on his way out of the door when he turned again. “Do not come after me, or you’ll be looking for a new job.”

Tony pouted. “I’ll be a good babysitter.”

“You better be.”

“Don’t I even get a goodbye kiss?” Tony asked.

The heavy frown was exchanged for a brief smile. He stepped back inside and kissed Tony lightly, then pressed a kiss to Emma’s forehead.

“Keep an eye on him, will you?” Gibbs said to Emma. “He gets into trouble a lot.”

“I don’t!” Tony protested. “Trouble finds me.”

Gibbs gave him a look that told him he clearly didn’t believe him and then he was gone, the tires screeching as he pulled out of the driveway. Taking a few steps outside onto the porch, Tony felt every bit like the mother and housewife he had protested against being a few hours ago. A baby on his hip, kissing Gibbs goodbye – he wasn’t sure he liked it. Then again, he wasn’t sure he _didn’t_ like it.

He called McGee, who knew where Gibbs and Ziva were going, but was surprised to hear that he needed to pick Tony up.

“My car’s at NCIS, McGenius,” Tony said. At least he didn’t have to come up with an explanation for why he was att Gibbs’ house.

“Oh,” said McGee. “Well, I can be there in twenty, if that’s okay.”

“It’s fine.” Tony hung up.

He found the car seat in the garage, though he wasn’t sure when Gibbs had had the time to remove it from the car. Then again, Gibbs was magic, and that hadn’t changed just because they’d had sex.

They’d had sex.

A part of Tony’s mind would even go so far as to say that they’d made love, which was ridiculous and sappy and totally un-Tony-like, but it was what it felt like. 

Emma stuck her fingers up his nose, effectively bringing his attention back to her.

“Yeah, I guess we should get ready to leave,” Tony said. “You do need an awful lot of things, don’t you?”

McGee arrived within the twenty minute timeframe he’d promised and Tony held Emma out to him.

“Hold her while I install the car seat.”

McGee looked uncertainly at Emma. “I, uh—”

“She neither breaks nor bites because you touch her, Probie,” Tony said, smirking because he had a much better handle with Emma than McGee did. He remembered Gibbs telling him the same thing that he had just told McGee. “Just take her for five minutes. She’s been glued to my side for the last forty-eight hours.”

“She won’t start screaming or something?” McGee asked.

“Can’t promise you that; she’ll get a close-up look at a McGeek after all,” Tony said. “I think I’d start screaming after that too.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” McGee said, glaring.

“Don’t you have a sister?” Tony asked. “You should be used to this stuff.”

“Yeah, twenty years ago,” McGee muttered.

He did take her, albeit hesitantly. Tony assumed McGee looked the way Tony had when he’d first gotten Emma assigned to him. He held her uncomfortably, though he did allow her to lean on him, which Tony hadn’t – perhaps he could recall a little of what it had been like when his sister was little, or perhaps there had been cousins or something. 

Tony watched for a moment, before turning to the car seat.

“All done,” he announced a few minutes later.

“Good, you take her.” McGee handed Emma over with obvious relief.

Tony took her and made a show of how easily he did so.

“See, she doesn’t bite,” he said. “Just pulls at my hair and screams every now and then.”

“It’s really weird seeing you being comfortable with a baby,” McGee said, staring at him. “You’re very good with her.”

Tony shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat at the honest praise. “I got used to it. Like I said, she’s been glued to my side for two whole days. Was easier to just deal with it.”

McGee smiled slightly. “I’ll take a few pictures of you when we get to NCIS.”

Tony put Emma in her car seat. There were no pictures of them together – there shouldn’t really be, because they’d only been in each others’ lives for two days and Tony would be a no one in her life pretty soon – but the idea of having a picture of her, of them, warmed Tony. He wanted to swat the feeling away, much like the idea of him and Gibbs making love, but didn’t quite manage. 

Emma squealed happily throughout the journey and McGee glanced at her through the rear view mirror enough times to make Tony snap at him to keep his eyes on the road. 

At NCIS, the guards greeted the trio and they headed inside. 

Tony sat down with Emma on his lap by his desk and she made high-pitched sounds, hitting notes that only bats should be able to hear. 

A flash went off and Tony looked up to find McGee grinning at them.

“Told you I’d take pictures,” he said.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I’d just like to be prepared.”

“Better pictures of unprepared subjects,” McGee said.

Tony didn’t agree; there were plenty of photos of the team at crime scenes, where they looked awful because they’d been unaware, or unprepared, of the photo being taken. 

Abby came sprinting into the bullpen. “I heard you guys got a hit on the BOLO.”

“Yep,” McGee said.

“Do they have her yet? Are we closing the case?” Abby asked. “Are you giving her back?”

“Don’t know yet,” Tony said. “Gibbs’ll interrogate her and then we’ll know.”

“No,” Abby said. “I found a partial fingerprint on one of the shell casings. The shooter tried to pick it up, but it was too hot, so they dropped it and left it be. A little bit of skin stuck, as well as the print.”

“Did you run it?” McGee asked.

Abby rolled her eyes. “No, I figured no one would care about a fingerprint,” she said sarcastically. “Of course I ran it. It matches – drum roll—”

“Petty Officer Rosen,” Tony said.

Abby grinned. “Got it in one. She killed Emma’s parents.”

They sobered a bit at that, looking down at the oblivious baby on Tony’s lap. Emma slobbered and played with Tony’s shirt, seeming quite happy.

Abby sighed. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Tony said softly, dropping a kiss on Emma’s head. “It does.”

He wondered what life would hold for her. Would Emma’s mother’s sister in Australia – who by the looks of it had been estranged from Emma’s mother for over a decade, probably because of Mrs. Brown’s drug problems – be willing to take care of Emma? Would whoever was in charge let her move to Australia? Would she be loved?

He couldn’t help but think about what his own life would have been like, had his parents died when he was a baby. He probably wouldn’t be the same person he was now. He wouldn’t have grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth and parents so distant that young Anthony would go to the cook to talk before telling his mother – but perhaps he’d have been in foster care, or something along those lines. Perhaps it would have been better or perhaps it would have been worse. 

The camera flashed again, bringing Tony back to the present.

“Would you stop doing that?” he snapped.

“No,” McGee said. 

“They’re so cute together,” Abby said to McGee. “Aren’t they sweet together?”

“Very,” McGee said. “Like sugar and honey on ice cream.”

Abby made a face. “Sugar overdose! It’d have to be dark chocolate ice cream – Tony can be that, and Emma’s the sugar and honey.”

“This discussion is bizarre,” Tony whispered loudly to Emma. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Not really, until Gibbs calls or gets back with anything,” Abby said. “All the evidence has been processed, bagged and tagged, ready to convict Rosen of a double homicide.”

“And I have all of Rosen’s records, bank statements, et cetera,” McGee said. “Nothing more for me to find.”

“So we can be here, annoying you instead,” Abby said.

“Oh, joy,” Tony muttered.

“Can I hold her a little?” Abby asked.

Tony looked down at Emma. A sudden desire to say no to Abby’s request shot through him, surprising him. He couldn’t find a good reason to deny her, though, and he handed her off.

He wondered where the thought had come from. He wasn’t attached to Emma. They’d known each other for two days – it wasn’t possible for an attachment to have developed. He was an NCIS Field Agent – Senior Field Agent, in fact – and he was perfectly happy with his life – especially now that Gibbs had become a part of it on a private plane too. There was no place in his life for a child, least of all a baby who spent what had to be at least a third of the hours of the day screaming her lungs out.

Abby bumped Emma on her knee and Emma giggled. It was a lovely sound, it really was. 

Tony shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to think this way. 

The phone rang, a blessed distraction from his thoughts.

“Hey boss,” he said.

“We’re bringing her in,” Gibbs said, in his usual brusque manner. The man had zero telephone etiquette, but Tony was used to it.

“Where was she?” Tony asked. 

“Homeless shelter in Arlington,” Gibbs said. “She’s in pretty bad shape.”

“What’s your ETA?” 

“Twenty minutes,” Gibbs said and hung up.

Tony informed Abby and McGee. They both nodded and then they went back to paying attention to Emma. Emma appeared to enjoy being the center of attention of two people. Tony pretended to work – he checked through his email, lazily clicking through the junk mail – but watched the three out of the corner of his eye. They looked like a little family; happy mother, happy father, happy baby. Abby, McGee and Emma – that was what a family should look like. 

Five minutes before Gibbs, Ziva and Rosen were to arrive back at NCIS, Tony took Emma back. Abby returned to the lab while McGee followed Tony and Emma to the observation room. 

It didn’t take long for Ziva to bring Petty Officer Ellie Rosen into the interrogation room. Gibbs was right – Rosen was in bad shape. Her hair hung, dirty and messy, and it didn’t seem to have been washed in at least a week. Her skin was dirty, and there were spots of dried blood on her skin and her clothes. Her hands shook and she couldn’t sit still as she waited for Gibbs to come in. 

Gibbs came into the observation room.

“Abby matched a fingerprint on one of the shell casings to Rosen, boss,” Tony said. “She did it.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs said.

“We should take samples of the blood on her clothes,” McGee said. “Some of it might belong to the Browns.”

“Already on its way down to Abby,” Gibbs said. 

“Okay,” Tony said. “So what are you doing here? She doesn’t look like she needs any more time to get stressed out.”

Gibbs looked at him, his gaze warm and intense. There was a smile, not on his face, but in his eyes, and with sudden clarity, Tony realized that Gibbs had come simply to see Tony – and perhaps Emma too. It felt—amazing to know.

Gibbs turned and left, and a glance to his side told Tony that McGee was none the wiser.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter seven**

 

“What happened, Petty Officer Rosen?” 

“I—I don’t—don’t know,” Rosen said, looking this way and that, nervously wringing her hands.

Gibbs was more patient with her than he usually was with suspects – but then, this one didn’t need to be broken. Rosen looked about as broken as a human being could be.

“We have your fingerprints at the crime scene,” Gibbs said. “You placed several phone calls to the Brown residence, and to Jonathan Brown’s cell phone. I’d like to know why.”

“He—he loves m-me,” Rosen said. “H-he loves me.”

Tony saw Gibbs sigh softly. Ziva stood in the corner of the room, simply watching, while McGee and Tony watched intently through the glass window.

“Did you kill Jonathan and Mathilda Brown?” Gibbs asked.

“N-no!” Rosen exclaimed. “They’re not d-dead. They—they’re not dead. They’re not dead. Not. Not.”

She moved back and forth on the chair, eyes squeezed shut. 

Gibbs placed two photos on the table; one of Jonathan Brown, the other of Mathilda Brown. Both had been taken at the crime scene. 

“They’re dead, Petty Officer,” Gibbs said. 

“I didn’t—didn’t mean to,” Rosen whispered. “Didn’t mean to—he loves me—l-loves me—he should be with me. Loves me.”

“Did you kill him because he wouldn’t leave his wife for you?” Gibbs asked.

“H-he loves me!” she said. 

Emma started sniffling at that point, face scrunching up with displeasure. Tony rubbed her back.

“I know, honey,” he said. “I don’t like her either.”

He left, wondering if Gibbs would be able to get anything sensible out of the crazy woman, as Emma’s sniffles turned into crying. He took her back up, grabbing the baby carrier in the bullpen, and went into a conference room. Her wails cut into his ears, unpleasant and loud.

“What’s up?” he asked. “Or are you just unhappy with Crazy Chick? I know I am. She killed your parents.”

Emma agreed with more screaming. Tony wondered if he should say words like ‘kill’ to Emma, but he decided that she wasn’t even close to the stage of talking, so he was safe. By the time she was ready to start talking, she’d be far, far away from him and his bad influence.

He couldn’t decide on whether the closing of the case was a good thing or not. On the one hand, he would get to give Emma away and he’d have his hands free again, he’d be able to sleep through the night, and he wouldn’t have to change dirty diapers all day long, or have his eardrums ruptured by screaming – but on the other hand, he would have to give Emma away which meant—no Emma. 

He realized suddenly that a small understanding as to why people had kids had festered and gotten a hold of his mind. It wasn’t complete understanding – he didn’t want to go out and get a girl pregnant, no thank you – but it was a part of it. For lack of a better word, he understood the love. Emma gave it unconditionally, just because Tony was there, because Tony took care of her. She didn’t call him stupid, nor did she make him the butt of her jokes. She was simply there, happy to be with him, content to exist. She was a heap of human clay, ready to be molded into something beautiful.

She had quieted, as he walked around rubbing her back and holding her, talking to her in a quiet, soothing voice. Her small hands were fisted in his shirt and he wanted to think that she didn’t quite want to leave him. He kissed the top of her head.

He heard the sound of a camera taking a picture, and he turned.

“Sorry,” McGee said. “It was just—” 

He didn’t continue, simply shrugged by way of explanation. Tony didn’t prod him.

“Anything?” he asked quietly.

“Abby matched the blood on her clothes to the blood of the Browns,” McGee said. “She confessed, or some version thereof, but I’m not sure what’s going to happen to her.”

“Mental ward, if what she looked like in interrogation is anything to go by,” Tony said. 

“Probably,” McGee said. “Look, uh—Child Services are out there. They’re here to get her.”

Tony nodded. “I’ll be out in a second.”

McGee left, closing the door behind him. Tony looked down at the child in his arms and wondered how she had managed to sneak into his heart in just days. He wouldn’t have thought it possible. Then again, it hadn’t taken Gibbs more than a few seconds to head straight into Tony’s heart when they first met, so maybe it could happen. With very special people.

“You’re very special,” Tony said to Emma, “and I will keep an eye on you. So you make sure you’re good. Well, not too good. Too good is boring. But you should be bad on the side of good.” He stopped, knowing he was babbling, and doing so to a baby felt even more silly than babbling did in general. “If anyone else tries something, just pick up the phone and I’ll be there. Okay?”

She made a sound as though she agreed. 

“Good girl,” he said, smiling softly at her. Then, to his own surprise, he whispered, “I love you, Emma.”

Emma gazed up at him, blue eyes serious. The tears had dried, but she still had snot all over from her crying fest. He grabbed a tissue and wiped her face. She protested unhappily.

“Got to look pretty for Child Services, sweetie,” Tony said softly.

He sighed, and headed out. His feet felt heavy.

The bullpen was crowded; Gibbs, Ziva and McGee were there, of course, but Abby, Ducky and Palmer had also made their way up. Two round ladies dressed in dark blue suits whom Tony could only assume came from Child Services stood by Gibbs’ desk. They didn’t look particularly happy.

“You’ve put us off long enough,” one of them said.

Gibbs didn’t look impressed. “We had a killer to catch. Her safety was more important than your rules.”

“The rules are there for a reason,” the other one snapped. “Where is she?”

Tony hoped those two wouldn’t be taking care of Emma for any longer period of time. 

“Here,” he said, making his presence known.

“Tony! Emma!” said Abby, with enough enthusiasm for anyone to think that she hadn’t seen them in years. 

“Shh,” Tony said. “I just got her to stop crying. My ears need a rest.”

“Oh, right,” Abby said, grinning.

Gibbs stood up. “As you can see, she’s in one piece and perfectly fine.”

The ladies didn’t looked wholly convinced. Obviously, they didn’t think NCIS Special Agents made for very good babysitters. Tony couldn’t really blame them, considering his reluctance to take on the job, and his fumbling and uncertainty through even the most basic things.

“Good,” the rules-lady said. “We have a foster home ready to take her.”

“Where’s she going?” Tony asked.

“She’s staying in Washington,” the lady said. “We have been in contact with the sister in Australia, but she has no interest in the child, apparently. All other relatives are deceased, which leaves us with foster care. Hopefully, we will be able to find someone to adopt her.”

She sounded business-like when she spoke. Tony wondered how many children a day they took care of. 

Tony hesitated. “Would it be possible for me to keep track of her? Just—know where she’s going?”

He tried to deliver the words with as much charm as possible, and it seemed to work. The lady’s frown melted away.

“It’s not according to the rules,” she said. “But I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” Tony said.

“Now, if you’d hand her over—”

“I just—have to say goodbye,” Tony said. 

He ignored the fact that the whole bullpen seemed to be watching, and he gazed down at Emma. She looked back at him, blue eyes big and beautiful, mouth slightly open as though she waited with baited breath for what he was going to say.

“Remember what I told you, sweetie,” he said to the baby.

He kissed her forehead and hugged her closer, running his hand up and down her back, feeling small breaths and a steady heartbeat beneath his fingers. She was warm and soft, her hair like silk. 

He breathed in her scent – she smelled of baby powder and formula and it was just so lovely. He stored it away, in a safe place in his mind, a good, warm memory. 

Then he handed her over to the lady, and swallowed as he felt the heaviness in his heart. He couldn’t seriously be heartbroken over a baby he had only known for three days. He couldn’t. He was Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS Special Agent, goofy, silly—

—father with a daughter, if only for a few days.

He gave the lady his card, his hand shaking, and she pocketed it. 

The two ladies efficiently packed up all the things Tony had been lugging around – diapers and bottles, formula and toys, clothes and wipes and powder and—

Tony watched as they thanked the team. His gaze was on the carrier, on Emma, lying on her back. He knew she’d start screaming soon enough, unless they got moving. Then they did, and his eyes were still on Emma and the carrier, even as they went into the elevator and the doors closed behind them.

Just like that, she was gone.

He felt thin arms sneak around him, hugging him. Abby tried her best to comfort him and he wondered how much of his heartbreak showed on his face. He should school himself into what they expected – he should make a joke – but he couldn’t find it in himself. 

So he simply stood there and let Abby hug him, and he wished that it was Gibbs’ strong embrace instead.

When Abby pulled away, standing up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek, Gibbs spoke.

“Go home, DiNozzo.”

“Boss—” He was almost surprised that he could talk. He cleared his throat. “I’m fine, boss. Really. Don’t we have work to do?”

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said. Gibbs’ gaze told Tony that Gibbs wasn’t trying to screw him over, nor was Gibbs tired of him showing feelings. This was Gibbs trying to take care of Tony.

“Boss, I need to work,” he said. “I can’t be at home, I’ll go crazy.”

Gibbs regarded him for a long moment before nodding. “Okay. There’s a report that needs to be written.”

Tony made a show of his grimace, and muttered, “Oh, joy, a report,” loudly enough for Ziva and McGee to hear. He hoped it was enough for them to believe in; hoped it was a façade thick enough to not be seen through.

He sat down to work, in reality not minding writing the report. Anything to keep his mind off the baby that had just disappeared out of his life.

  
\---

They finished early, Gibbs getting telling them to go home at four when he’d checked over their reports and deemed them satisfactory. Tony sighed, knowing there was nothing more for them to do at NCIS for the day. In the hours after solving a case there was always paperwork of different kinds to fix, but once that was done, they usually went into a sort of vacuum, where they were too drained to start studying cold cases but at the same time they had their hours to work. 

The vacuum hurt more than it usually did, this time around. For once, it wasn’t a physical hurt – Tony had had more than his fair share of physical vacuum hurts, what with getting shot, battered, bruised, and ill with the plague – but an emotional one.

He took his own car back to his own apartment. Both felt empty, his apartment dark when he finally reached it. He hadn’t been home in three days, since he started playing daddy.

Tony took a shower, turning the water to scalding hot and just standing under the spray. He remembered Emma, splashing him with water. That made him think of Gibbs, wet and then sans shirt, and then sans clothes at all, and then—he felt himself grow hard. Gibbs invaded his mind, and he welcomed it, because those were positive thoughts, delicious memories that felt oh so good.

Hand wrapped around his cock, leaning on the other arm against the wall, he came, Gibbs’ name on his lips.

Afterwards, he dried himself off, grabbing a pair of grey sweatpants and an old college shirt.

He’d barely sat down on the couch when a series of rapid knocks on the door had him up on his feet again.

“Boss,” he said, finding Gibbs outside. “Do we have a case?”

“No,” Gibbs said. “You okay?”

Tony sighed. “I’m fine. I just need to—debrief myself.”

“Can I come in?” Gibbs asked. He held out a bag with cartons that smelled deliciously. 

Tony gave him a quick grin. “Since you’re bringing bribes, yes.”

He tried to think of any previous occasion where Gibbs had actually asked for permission to enter his home, rather than to just stalk inside. He failed.

Gibbs handed Tony the carton and hung his coat on the hanger. They headed into the living room, Tony making a quick detour to the kitchen to get plates and something to drink.

“Beer?” he asked.

“Sure,” Gibbs said.

“Are you driving?” Tony asked.

“Not planning on leaving,” Gibbs said.

Tony smiled at that, grabbing a beer each.

They ate in silence, although Tony felt Gibbs’ gaze on him all the while. Finally, after sating the worst of his hunger, Tony looked up.

“You’re staring a hole through my skull, boss,” he said.

Gibbs smiled slightly, but stayed quiet.

Tony sighed. “Yeah, I miss her. I know it’s insane, especially after how much I said I don’t want kids – I still don’t, by the way – but I do. She was—something. Really something.”

“You bonded,” Gibbs said.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “We did.”

He took another bite of food. It was very good; noodles and chicken and vegetables. 

“I’m going to keep track of her,” Tony said.

“Hope you do,” Gibbs said.

“I just want to make sure she’s all right,” Tony said. “She’s still so little, and the world kind of sucks.”

They sat three feet apart on the couch, and Tony inched closer, wishing he could know for sure that it was all right. He needed comfort – physical comfort – right now. Not necessarily sex, although sex would be nice later, but for right now just—closeness.

Gibbs apparently didn’t appreciate his attempt at covertness. Rolling his eyes, he held out an arm, allowing Tony to lean in and cuddle up against him.

“I won’t ever say that I understand what you went through with Kelly and Shannon,” Tony said, “but I think this is a little, tiny bit of it. Probably not more than point zero-zero-zero-zero-something percent, but—”

His heart pounded, because he wasn’t sure Gibbs would like the comparison. Gibbs’ daughter had died – comparing that to Emma was probably, now that he thought about it, not the brightest idea Tony had ever had.

Gibbs’ hold tightened minutely. 

Then Tony felt a kiss being pressed to his temple, warm and soft. He closed his eyes, breathing in, reveling in the feeling of Gibbs holding him. 

He realized that though Emma wasn’t his, Gibbs was. Gibbs was his family. His home. 

He smiled, turned his head, and kissed Gibbs for real.

Gibbs didn’t seem to mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue**

 

There was a knock on the door. Tony frowned; it was nearing eight at night, and they usually didn’t have visitors this late, unless it was bad news. 

He opened the door to find a girl standing outside. Beneath a mop of brown hair, two familiar blue eyes looked up at him. 

“Mister DiNozzo?” she said.

“Yes,” Tony said.

“I’m Emma,” she said. “You probably don’t remember me, but I—”

He had to interrupt her before she got any further. “I remember.”

She looked surprised. “Oh. Good.”

Ten years had passed since the case, but Tony hadn’t let it slip from his memory. At the start, he got updates every month from the foster home where Emma lived, and then, after a year when Emma was adopted by a family in Charlottesville, he kept receiving updates on a more irregular basis from her adoptive mother. 

“Come in.” He held out his hand in an invitation. 

She bit her lip tentatively. “Well, I’m not really allowed to come into strangers’ houses.”

“You’ve been here before,” Tony said. “It’s not really a stranger’s house.”

“I guess not,” she said, grinning easily.

She walked inside and looked around curiously. Tony took her coat and led her into the living room.

“So what brings you here, Emma?” Tony asked.

She turned and looked at him. The pictures her adoptive mother had sent had not done her justice. She was a beautiful child, though her hair was unkempt as though she spent most of her time running around rather than primping herself. She was dressed in blue jeans and a shirt; comfortable clothes to move around in.

“Mom told me about you.” Emma studied the room. “She said you took care of me after my parents were killed.”

“I did,” Tony said. “My boss thought you might be in danger, so he had me watch you until we’d solved the case. You gave me two sleepless nights.”

She grinned at him and didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “That’s the way my brother was when he was little. He screamed a lot.”

“You did, too,” Tony said.

“Mom said she’s been writing letters to you.”

“Yeah, she was nice enough to do that,” Tony said. “Kept me updated.”

“Do you always stay updated on kids you take care of?” Emma asked, cocking her head to the side.

Tony chuckled. “You’re the only one I’ve ever had to take care of, actually.”

“Oh,” Emma said. “Well, thank you anyway.”

“For what?” 

“Taking care of me,” Emma said. “Mom says I should always say thank you when people do nice things.”

“That’s a good mom you’ve got.”

Emma nodded. They sat down and Tony noticed that Emma seemed to be bouncing with energy. He saw something of himself in her, in boundless energy and happiness. 

“Would you like anything to drink? Eat?” he asked.

“Nah. Mom’s coming to pick me up in an hour. She drove me here and stayed until you let me inside.”

“She thought this was a good idea?” Tony asked.

“Why wouldn’t she?” Emma asked. “She said that you took good care me ten years ago, so why wouldn’t you do it now?”

Tony smiled; he couldn’t argue with that logic. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Emma smiled widely. “Okay. I’m in fifth grade, and I really like math and science. I want to be a doctor when I grow up, or a veterinarian, because I really like animals too.”

“Not a Special Agent, then?” Tony asked.

Emma grinned. “Maybe. I think my brother’d be better at it, he’s always playing detective and getting into my stuff.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Tony asked.

“Just one, and a little sister.” Her pride was obvious.

Tony heard steps coming up from the basement and a moment later, Gibbs appeared.

“Company?” he asked.

Tony smiled. “Jethro, do you remember Emma?”

“Emma Brown?” Gibbs said, eyebrows rising slightly.

“Emma Dermis,” Emma said. “Brown was my other mom’s name, but they changed it when mom and dad adopted me.”

Gibbs held out his hand, smiling slightly. “I’m Gibbs. It’s a pleasure to meet you again then, Miss Dermis.”

Emma grinned and shook his hand. “You too.” She looked from Gibbs to Tony and back. “Do you live together?”

Tony exchanged a glance with Gibbs. “Yeah.”

“Are you together?” Emma asked frankly.

Tony chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” Emma said, grinning easily. “My favorite uncle lives with his boyfriend too.” 

Tony wished that everyone had been so accepting of their relationship. It had taken McGee a few months to really accept it, and though the man had made team leader himself by now and was one of Tony’s closest friends, Tony still remembered those months with sadness.

After Jenny’s death, the new Director hadn’t been particularly kind either, simply looking for excuses to fire them. Abby had been their biggest supporter, fighting for them when everyone else had seemed to wage against them. Ducky had given them their blessing. He had taken Tony aside, telling Tony how thrilled he was that Gibbs had found happiness once more. 

Ziva had distanced herself from them and when she gave her letter of resignation no one had been surprised. It hadn’t been because of Gibbs and Tony, so much as it had been because she’d found love in Israel, but Tony knew that his relationship with Gibbs hadn’t helped matters. Still, they exchanged emails on occasion.

These days, it was easier. Tony wasn’t on Gibbs’ team anymore and their relationship was old news. And in ten years, the world had become a bit less homophobic, even though it still had miles to go.

Tony shook himself from his reverie; he had an important guest.

They talked for the hour they had until Emma’s mother returned. Emma told him and Gibbs about her life, her dreams, her favorite subjects and least favorite teachers, and Tony listened, his mind only sometimes wandering to the memories of Emma as a little baby, crying her eyes out, sleeping in his arms, and smiling toothlessly at him. In the end, he brought out the pictures McGee had taken of him and Emma.

“I was so little!” Emma said.

“Yeah,” Tony said, smiling. “You were tiny. I didn’t really know what to do with you.”

Emma giggled.

When Mrs. Dermis rang the doorbell and it was time for Emma to leave, Tony pulled her in for a hug.

“If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call,” he said. “Your mom has my number.”

“Can you come kick Henry’s ass if he’s being stupid?” Emma asked innocently, referring to a kid who liked to cause trouble in her school. 

“Maybe,” Tony grinned. “He sounds like a bad seed in need of a good—”

“DiNozzo,” Gibbs said warningly, though Tony heard his amusement.

“Okay, maybe not,” Tony conceded.

“Too bad,” Emma grinned. “Can I come visit you again?”

Tony smiled. “Anytime. The door’s unlocked.”

“Cool. Bye!” She waved and then she bounded out the door to the car that stood waiting by the street. 

Mrs. Dermis smiled at Tony and Gibbs. “Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

Tony knew she wasn’t talking about just the evening’s visit. “Anytime.”

Mrs. Dermis turned and headed to the car as well.

Seeing Mrs. Dermis hug Emma filled Tony with happiness and contentment he hadn’t expected. It wasn’t bittersweet. Emma had never been his to keep – she’d enriched his life for a short time and then she was gone. He got snapshots of her life and he would continue to watch over her from afar, with pictures and letters, and perhaps the occasional visit. It was more than enough, like little specks of gold on any grey day.

Mrs. Dermis and Emma drove off. Tony stared after the disappearing lights of the car, until nothing but darkness remained.

An arm sneaked around his waist. 

“Come on, Director,” Gibbs murmured into his ear. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Special Agent Gibbs, that sounds like a scandalous attempt to seduce me,” Tony grinned.

“It is,” Gibbs agreed.

“Good.”

Tony closed the door and leaned into Gibbs. Lips met and Tony thought Gibbs tasted just as good now as he had ten years ago. He really should thank Emma sometime for getting them together. Then again, some things might be better left unsaid.

Gibbs bit and licked the spot just beneath Tony’s ear, and he gasped. Ten years had passed, but his attraction to Gibbs hadn’t lessened in the least.

They barely made it to bed.


End file.
